What If?
by Kierastarlight
Summary: What if Castiel didn't win the war in Heaven? Ficlet. Parody. I wrote this when I was sad, but it has humor in it too. Almost Dean/Castiel. SPOILERS FOR 6.19 & 6.17. Not exactly a happy ending.


Castiel was glaring at Crowley with a look that could have burned down steel buildings.

"You're wasting your time, Cas, you must realize that by now," Crowley said.

"What are you talking about?" His glare went up several notches. Crowley was surprised that was even possible.

"Dean doesn't care about you. I can see it, all the angels in heaven can see it, but you can't see it because you're too blind with your precious love for him. After you're done with my little project of mine, you ought to give up on this war in heaven and let Raphy baby win. Your cause is completely moot. Sorry to break the bad news to you."

Castiel looked down. Moments later, he appeared in front of Dean and Sam at Bobby's.

"Dean, I need to know if you care….for me." Castiel said abruptly.

Dean spun his neck around, looked at Castiel. "What…what kind of question is that, Cas?" Dean asked.

"I'm being serious Dean," Castiel used with a harshness Dean hadn't heard since Castiel had demanded the amulet. "I need to know if you care for me. Now."

Dean's eyebrows raised and he looked at Sam. "Can you give me a moment alone, Sam?"

Sam jumped up out of his chair. "Be nice to him, Dean," Sam whispered before leaving the room.

Dean stood up, faced Castiel. "Why on earth are you asking me a question like this, Cas?' Dean asked.

"Just answer the question, Dean."

"Um, sure I care about you, you are my friend. Hey, this better not have to do with what Balthazar told me, because if it is, that's really creepy, Cas."

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "What did Balthazar tell you, Dean?"

Dean laughed briefly. "Uh, never mind, Cas. Forget I brought it up."

"No, tell me." Castiel stepped closer, was breathing down Dean's neck.

"He, uh, he said you were in love with me! Okay? God, this is awkward! I never should have said anything!"

Castiel looked down thoughtfully for a moment. Looked up, and asked, "And you do not share the same feelings for me, am I correct in that assumption, Dean?" Castiel challenged.

"Uh, Cas, I…I don't swing that way, sorry. I mean you're a nice guy, but you're not my type."

Castiel looked at the ceiling. "Crowley was right," he mumbled before disappearing. Leaving Dean extremely puzzled. More so about the fact that Castiel was recently talking to Crowley, than anything else. He forgot the conversation about love in about five minutes, after turning on a Star Trek re-run.

Two weeks later, Raphael won the war due to the fact Castiel's entire army no longer was receiving any directions from their general. The entire earth became a pristine paradise, where humans were obedient and pleasant. Dean hooked back up with Lisa, got a job building beautiful houses for anyone who didn't have one yet, Sam went back to Stanford and realized law school was no longer an option because now life was perfect, so he got a degree in photography. The brothers didn't see each other very often, because, well, their unhealthy co-dependence just didn't exist in paradise.

Far away, Crowley and Raphael were clinking wine glasses together. "I can't believe how easy that was," Raphael said.

"I told you Castiel was a push over for Dean. Dangle a dose of reality in front of him, and he goes limp."

"Ha ha, I should have used Castiel's undying love for Dean against him a long time ago. Would have saved a lot of lives."

"Well, drink up," Crowley said. "The war is over now. And do you want to hear the clincher?"

"What's that?"

"If Castiel had waited, oh say two months longer, he would have had the complete love and devotion of Dean. Complete with a 180 on his sexual orientation. Dean was close, Castiel couldn't see it though."

Raphael laughed. "No way."

"Really. Terrible shame for them both, don't you think?"

Raphael just cuddled closer to Crowley on the white leather couch, sipping his wine. In front of them burned a large, ethereal furnace, their mutual collection of souls, burning brightly, casting upon them a brilliant light and unending power.

And poor, poor Castiel. He was reduced to inane duties like rescuing kittens out of trees, because, in paradise, there just weren't many problems. His life was very, very boring.

In case you're wondering what happened to Bobby, the junkyard was recycled for scrap material to build the new world. No one needed a mechanic anymore because cars did not break down in paradise. Crowley had a soft spot for Bobby after all, so he resurrected his wife for him, and together they turned Bobby's old scrap yard into a large nursery, growing all kinds of beautiful flowers. And Bobby's wife baked pies. Lots and lots of pies.

Dean seemed to remember faintly sometimes, as he was tossing Frisbees with Ben, that there used to be something else in his life. A small flicker of craving something substantial, wanting something with the hope that someday it would be his, if only he could gather up the courage to step forward. But then he'd shake the phantom cobwebs out of his head. He lived in paradise, and he wanted for nothing. Life was perfect.


End file.
